


It's Not so Easy Caving in

by paradis



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:10:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradis/pseuds/paradis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Danny used to be a heroin addict.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not so Easy Caving in

**Author's Note:**

> Neurotic Author's note 1) *deep breath* You guys, I'm so, so sorry. Only it's just - well, I was watching Speed of Life and there was kind of an idea that just blossomed and from there became this fic. It's not AU - not really? Which is why I didn't tag it AU, it just kind of fits so that it was all in Danny's past.  
> Neurotic Author's note 2) I've read, I've reread, I've reread it again and again but if something doesn't add up or anything - I'm always willing to listen. I always want to hear what anyone thinks. And like my last story - guys, I'm even _more_ nervous about posting this one.  
>  Less Neurotic (More Side) Author's Note 3) Title of this story is from Jack's Mannequin - _Kill the Messenger_.

It’s not something Danny runs around screaming out to people in his spare time. It’s not something that comes out even when he’s gotten to know someone really, really well. It’s something that’s kept locked away with the deepest of dark secrets; the kind of thing that Steve probably would call _classified_ and if anyone ever opened a file on it parts of the document would be blackened out and hard to understand – like a foreign language. Danny’s whole past is sort of written like a black op, deep and dark and completely cut off from the rest of the world.

Outside of a few choice – or not choice but _need-to-know_ – people, no one knows about it. Not Rachel, not past dates, not Steve or – anyone, he thinks. No one _needs_ to know, he reasons with himself on the rare times that his brain gets the urge to tell someone. It’s crazy and ridiculous to tell anyone. There’s no reason. There’s no need. It would send everything off balance, there would be questions and pitiful glances and people would start looking concerned.

There’s not much Danny can say for himself. There’s nothing _to_ say for himself. There are no excuses, there are no reasons. There are no answers or problems that led to it. He didn’t have a terrible childhood, he didn’t have a traumatic moment – he just _did_ it.

Back before his future, back before Rachel or the Academy or anything that was _good_ for him, he made bad decisions – and normally he would say that it’s okay to make a few bad decisions – but his decisions destroyed his family’s lives for a few years, put everyone on pause. His decisions made it hard for people to like him – hard for them to _love_ him and he remembers everyone looking at him with sad and hard, hateful eyes all at the same time.

 _Come on, Danny, get up off the floor. When are you gonna pull it together?_

Is the voice ringing through his head as he walks through Honolulu’s red light district in search of a suspect to question with Steve, the late afternoon sun not spreading _enough_ warmth through him. He’s shaky and unsure in his movements with people surrounding him, pupils blown wide, cat-calling voices slurring out, _“Baby, come a little closer.”_ Which is not right. Danny is wearing his _badge._ They should be _fearful_ of him.

And some are, slinking back into the shadows or darting down the alleyways, trying their very best to disappear before Danny and Steve get to them. Blood pounds in Danny’s ears and his legs feel weak as he sees a pusher exchange hands in what he _thinks_ is a discreet way with a buyer. Danny wants and doesn’t want to run up and cuff them all at the same time.

Beside him, Steve’s jaw is locked in complete disapproval and he stares straight ahead as if he’s trying to zone out his surroundings. Right: focus on the suspect. Find her, get her to answer questions and get the _fuck_ out of here, Danny reasons. He clenches his fists until what little fingernails he has are biting into his palms and his teeth are grinding.

It’s then that Steve glances over. “Danny?” He asks. “Danny, are you okay?”

There’s something weird in Danny’s brain distorting all the sound and he can’t really answer Steve’s question, he’s uneasy with his surroundings – he was _never_ this uneasy when he had to deal with druggies back in Jersey, he thinks – and he’s weak from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. His fingers are tingling and his sight is sort of blurring. “I –“ he breaks off when the voices come rushing to the front of his head again.

 _“Just once, try it, Danny. It’s perfect, it’ll give you the best feeling you ever got, baby, I promise.”_

 _“You ever tried shootin’ it? Best way to get high, man, I swear.”_

 _“It’s the purest we got. Most expensive, too – but don’t worry, we’ll work somethin’ out.”_

Danny reaches a hand out to grip something to keep himself steady and it just so happens that Steve is the nearest thing. “Danno?” Steve asks, eyebrow arched in concern. He focuses on taking steadying breaths and tries to blink the voices away.

“I think,” He breathes out, “I need to get out of here.”

Steve grips his arm a little tighter and guides him back to the car with what seems like a little manhandling, but Danny isn’t complaining, because he’s not sure if he could get his legs to work, anyways.

\--  
Danny knows that logically with new relationships, it’s best to get all your secrets out in the open right at the start. That’s part of the reason he and Rachel never worked, he supposes; Rachel and he both had secrets – one of which being they both liked their work more than each other, another being they both liked fighting and bitching more than love and sex. It proved that they weren’t meant to last and that they were sort of love on fire. Burning bright, bright, bright – then burning out faster than you could ever expect.

He knew this going into his relationship with Steve, too, but couldn’t bring himself to tell Steve his secrets any more than he could tell Rachel. The difference here was that he actually _wanted_ to tell Steve – he just kept coming up with excuses and reasons _not_ to tell him. They’re too busy, it’s too good of a day, they’re having a bad day, etc. etc.

Danny knows that along the way in his life, he will have to tell a few people. He will have to explain to Grace why drugs are bad for her and he will choose to tell her, on that day, why he knows firsthand the truth about them. He might someday run into someone from his past and it will come up. There might be forms and doctors along the way who need to know and he will deal with it as it comes his way. But telling someone now, someone that he loves and needs in his life, is the hardest thing he’s done in a long time.

Steve pulls him out of the car and guides him in the house and onto the couch. “Steve, I’m really okay –“ he tries to say, but his voice is still thin and his hands are still shaky. Steve ignores him anyways and pulls his shoes off and then throws a blanket over him.

“I just don’t understand what’s wrong,” he’s saying. “You were fine until we got there and then all the sudden it just - _hit_ you,” he looks at him with wide, concerned hazel eyes, hands smoothing back Danny’s hair, checking for a temperature as though Danny’s a child.

Danny has his mouth opened, poised to tell him the truth, but all the sudden his throat closes up and he can’t do it. It’s as if all the words in his dictionary just fly right out and there’s nothing left in his brain. Instead, he shrugs his shoulders, closes his eyes and leans into Steve’s touch. Steve leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead before he leaves him to sleep, saying he’s going into HQ to close things down for the day and he’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.

Danny doesn’t have anywhere else to be.

\--  
Danny dreams of his past. His mother is in it, his father and his brother and sisters, too. His brother is the one telling him to get up off the floor, angrily.

 _“Come on, Danny, up off the floor, bro,” he murmurs, hauling him up by one arm. Danny’s eyes are half-closed and he’s slack-jawed. His bones feel like jelly, loose-limbed and uncoordinated. He can’t control his muscles. There are books and papers and broken glass strewn across the floor and he’s not sure how that got there – he tries to grimace._

 _“What’s up, bro?” Matty asks, trying to guide him across the floor._

 _“Floooor,” Danny slurs. “Mess.”_

 _“Yeah,” Matty snorts. “You did that, Danny.” Danny starts feeling like he’s falling so he grips Matty’s shoulder tighter and turns in what he thinks is the direction of his face._

 _“W-when?” he tries to ask. He thinks Matty squints at him._

 _“When?” Matty’s voice sounds like it’s underwater. Bubbled up and distorted and extremely hard to understand. “Danny – Danny you’re falling – Danny get up off the floor, man. Jesus Christ. Come on, Danny, get up off the floor. When are you gonna pull it together, man?”_

The dream segues into his Ma’s kitchen and even in his sleep, Danny feels a longing for home at the imaginary sight.

 _Danny stumbles through the door and tries to hold himself up. It’s dark and hard to see and he’s high, high out of his mind. Maybe a little drunk, too, he thinks to himself as he tries to navigate around the kitchen table and smacks right into it. “Shit,” he grins to himself and that’s when the light flicks on._

 _His Ma stands there wrapped in her rope and wearing her slippers, hugging herself tightly. Her eyes are clouded with something close to anger and disapproval, but if Danny looks closer he can see the sadness weighing her down._

 _He can see himself weighing her down._

 _“Danny,” she says, and Danny shakes his head._

 _“No, no,” he says – or tries to say, but it comes out slurry and uneven. “ ‘m fine.”_

 _She shakes her own head and points her finger at him. “No you’re not!” She yells, and then runs into the kitchen, pokes her finger into his chest. He’s weak on his feet from the drugs and he stumbles back into the wall, head bouncing off it. “You’re not_ fine _Daniel, you’re the furthest thing from it! What happened to you? What – how did this happen –“ she breaks off as his father comes running down the steps followed by his sisters._

 _Danny gives them all a disgusting sneer before he falls to the floor and starts puking and laughing at the same time._

\--  
He’s shaken awake by the phone ringing and he shudders a few times before fumbling for it. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Steve’s voice comes across the line when he presses answer.

Danny stays silent for a few seconds, bouncing his knee and running his fingers through his hair before he replies, “I’m okay, babe,” very quietly. Steve doesn’t say anything and for long minutes all Danny can hear is his breathing down the line.

It’s soothing and Danny lies back on the couch and just listens to it. He grips the phone and closes his eyes tightly to try and block the wave of past memories surfacing, but it doesn’t work very well. Finally Steve takes a deep breath and says, “You’re not okay, are you, Danno?”

Danny doesn’t know what to say for a long time, until it comes out in a small, broken voice. “No.”

Steve says he’s on his way home.

\--  
 _“Heroin is the best way to get high,” Cruz tells him. Cruz has gold chains around his neck, baggy jeans and a wife beater with sweat-stains. He’s packing heat, has been since he turned thirteen. Danny knows this because Danny has hung out with him since they were little boys on the same block. Since then, Cruz’s dad has up and taken off and left his mom to work two jobs with four kids and they had to move from the edge of the city where Danny lives, right into the heart of it, where danger lives._

 _They’re eighteen years old, graduated two months ago. Danny is sitting in the dilapidated garage where they meet all the time, watching Cruz roll the joint for him. “I’m not into the hard stuff,” he tells him, smirking when Cruz lights the joint. He’s been looking forward to this evening all week, blowing off some steam and unwinding._

 _“You weren’t into the light stuff, either,” Cruz points out and Danny resists the urge to sock him one._

 _With drugs comes cockiness, and Cruz definitely has that, Danny has noticed. The swagger that says he can get away with anything, the ability to smirk at everybody and think he’s standing on top of the world even though his pupils are five times their normal size and his hands shake when they try to steady on something._

 _“Just shut up and give me that,” Danny says and plucks it out of his hand. He inhales deep and holds it there, relishing in the scent and the relaxation. He’s still doing the same thing on repeat when she walks through the door._

 _He’s got a steady buzz going between the alcohol and the weed and Cruz’s voice sounds a little off when he introduces them, so he almost misses her name completely, but it’s there, just barely. “Delia,” he says and it rolls right off his tongue and he’s aware of all the vowels._

 _She’s the one who convinces them, late in the night when they’re all rolling on the floor laughing at something that isn’t funny. “Just once, try it, Danny. It’s perfect, it’ll give you the best feeling you ever got, baby, I promise.” She reaches up, runs a finger along his jawline and that’s all it takes in his muddled brain to convince him._

 _Cruz is already cutting lines with his Mom’s expired AmEx card._

\--  
Steve opens the door and rushes to Danny’s side as soon as he can. “Danno,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around him and Danny lets himself sink into the hug as best he can.

A while ago, if anyone had told him that Steve would ever be this open with his affections, he would have said _Get the fuck out of here,_ laughed and waved his hands around in a frantic rant about how Steve is a Navy SEAL whose first instinct is to stow away his emotions. Now, Steve is easy with his touches, quick to reach out for his hand or wrap his arms around him in the comfort of their own home. Danny is still surprised by it sometimes but appreciates it, nonetheless.

He nuzzles his nose against Steve’s neck and inhales his scent. “What’s wrong?” Steve whispers, kissing the top of his forehead. He brushes his fingers across Danny’s lower back and Danny takes deep breaths, trying to feel better. He shakes his head against Steve’s chest and Steve grips him tighter. “Danno?” he tries again.

“Steve,” he mutters, curling his fists in Steve’s shirt. “Steve I want to –“ he breaks off, throat closing up, looking up at Steve with wide, scared eyes. “I can’t –“

Steve looks worried and confused and _scared_ all at once, like he’s not sure what Danny’s about to tell him, but it can’t be good news. Danny doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it’s not good news. That he isn’t a good person.

\--  
 _“I don’t have the money to buy any,” Danny says, staring down at Cruz, who is cutting nice even and straight lines. Cruz glances up at him._

 _“Thought you were working on those bikes?”_

 _“I um – “ Danny breaks off and scratches the back of his head, “I took a Harley for a joy ride the other day. Boss fired me,” he shrugs. Cruz looks up at him for three seconds and starts laughing._

 _“You what?” He laughs. “What the fuck is wrong with you, bitch?” Danny’s face heats up a little at the question but he shrugs, because he’s not really sure what hit him in that moment. He just felt an intense urge to get on the bike and just – go. And he had. He’d sped up and down the streets a few times until the cops got him and the only reason they hadn’t arrested him was because his boss had covered him that much. Once he’d been un-cuffed and sent home – nothing on his record, thank God – however, his boss had screamed into his ear for a solid half-hour and then fired him._

 _“Might have a job for you,” Cruz says, staring at him with large brown eyes, and Danny’s heart skips a few beats._

 _He doesn’t want to do this. He really doesn’t. But an insane part of him really does; really needs to. His body has started needing that fix._

 _He grips the table top and stares back at Cruz, licking his lips and kneeling down next to him. He snorts one line and sniffs, then looks back to Cruz, “I’m listening,” he murmurs._

 _That’s how Danny Williams winds up pushing cocaine for a job at eighteen years old._

\--  
He and Steve are lying in bed, Steve running his hand up and down Danny’s shoulder. Danny still hasn’t said much, he’s just clinging to Steve and trying to think of what to say and how. Steve isn’t pushing him though and for that, Danny is forever grateful. He makes a small noise like a cat purring and curls up on his side into Steve more. Steve grips his shoulder tighter and looks down at him.

“Danny,” he says and Danny blinks up at him. Steve smiles briefly, sadly. “You don’t – you don’t have to tell me… if you don’t want to. But it’s really bothering you, isn’t it? And I – Danno, you know that I’m always going to listen, right?”

Danny makes a small noise and pulls away a little to look up at him. “I want to – I mean,” he clears his throat, “I just. I’m not sure… how,” he murmurs. Steve leans up his elbows and looks Danny in the eyes, reaches a hand out and grips his face securely.

“Danny,” he says seriously, “ _Anything._ I’m not going anywhere.”

And deep inside, Danny knows this, but on the surface there’s fear running everywhere, locking his mouth tight, making his fingers tremble and his teeth chatter and forcing memories to the front of his mind. There’s fear there, on the very surface causing him to keep secrets shut up inside him like he’s always done, even when he wants to bring them out the most. There’s fear there, pricking the back of his neck and he hates it more than anything because he is _not_ a weak man.

Not anymore.

He blinks slowly and breathes out, nuzzling Steve’s palm. “I can’t – you have to – you have to bear with me, Steve,” he says, reaching out and gripping onto Steve’s bicep. Steve brushes his thumb alone Danny’s jaw and offers him a brief, worried smile.

“Always, Danno,” he whispers, and leans down and kisses him.

\--  
 _“You want to – are you fucking crazy, you stupid moron?” Danny stutters, stumbling to a halt and turning halfway to look at Cruz. Cruz offers him a cocky smirk and shakes his head, shrugging._

 _“Shootin’s the best way to get that high, man,” he tells him. “You telling me you’re not looking for that these days, Danny?”_

 _“I wasn’t looking for any of this any of these days!” Danny splutters, throwing his hands up and spinning around, gesturing at the graffiti on the alleyway walls and the dealers standing on street corners. Eyeing the prostitutes making come-at-me gestures with their bony fingers, he speaks again, “Cruz, I didn’t – I didn’t want any of this.”_

 _Cruz shrugs, shadows covering his eyes, “None of us did, Danny. Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it while it lasts, right?”_

 _That’s how Danny finds himself in that ever-present dilapidated garage the Cruz seems to live in, watching him run the lighter under a spoon, tap a syringe a couple times before squeezing just enough to make liquid squirt out the top. There’s a sick feeling in his stomach – something’s churning over and over again – his heart is beating fast already and he hasn’t even had any drugs, and he’s trembling. Cruz wraps the band around his arm and tells him to pump his fist a couple times. Danny does and then Cruz sticks the needle in his vein. It’s over before Danny even has time to blink._

 _A few minutes later, he’s feeling pretty high; pretty amazing. He’s feeling pretty, period, he thinks as he spins around in circles throughout the garage. Loose-limbed, nothing is working right, but it’s all okay. Everything is okay. Nothing matters. Cruz is on the floor across the garage, staring up at the ceiling and swishing invisible patterns into the air. Danny squints at him, opens his mouth and knows he has something more eloquent to say than what comes out. But what comes out works, too, “Hate you.”_

 _And then he falls down, stares up at the ceiling, too, until he passes out._

\--  
It’s morning when Danny wakes up and he’s sort of shocked and not all at the same time that Steve let him sleep that long. The bed is empty beside him and when he steps out onto the balcony of their room, he can make out Steve’s figure in the ocean. He watches him for a little while before he makes his way downstairs to the coffee maker.

By the time he’s finished with his first cup of coffee, Steve comes back into the house, dripping saltwater on the hardwood floors. Danny tries to offer him a smile, but his face seems broken and what comes out is closer to a grimace. Steve crosses the room and kisses his forehead before kneeling down and gripping his thighs to both steady himself and comfort Danny. “Do you want to talk, Danny?” He asks, keeping his eyes on Danny the entire time, but running soothing fingers over his thighs.

Danny nods, running a finger over the ring his coffee mug has made. “Can we… can we talk after we’re done showering, please?” He whispers, and Steve nods, standing up and then helping Danny to his feet. He pulls Danny in before he has time to blink and holds him tight.

“Told you,” Steve says, “We can talk whenever you want.”

Danny holds on even tighter.

They shower and Danny sits Indian style on the bed amidst all the sheets watching Steve putter around the room straightening it up. He picks up dirty clothes first (they both just drop their clothes in the middle of the floor on the way to bed, they can’t help it most times), moves them to the hamper and then moves on to hanging clean clothes in the closet.

And that’s when it slips out. Danny can’t help it, doesn’t mean to, just blurts it out in the most unfashionable way.

“I used to be a addicted to heroin.”

Steve stops in the middle of hanging up one of Danny’s dress shirts. His back is turned to Danny, so all Danny sees is the way he straightens up and all the muscles in his shoulders going tense with surprise. His hand is still dangling halfway to the closet when he turns around to face Danny. “Danny, that isn’t funny,” he says, voice even.

“Well that’s good,” Danny replies, his own voice shaky, “Because it wasn’t meant to be funny, Steve. It’s the truth.”

He’s gripping the sheets tightly for support and staring at Steve’s chest instead of his face at the moment, but after a total minute of silence, he slowly moves his eyes up to look at him. Steve’s staring at him, mouth halfway open like he’s got something he wants to say but he’s not sure how to say it. Danny closes his eyes to blink away tears and continues. “It was a really long time ago. Not a lot of people know – just – just my parents and my brother and sisters. And the people I… surrounded myself with, then. Not even – not even Rachel knew – I couldn’t even tell her. I just. Steve –“ he breaks off, opens his eyes and looks up at him blurrily.

“W-why are you telling me? Now?” Steve asks shakily. He drops down into the chair in the corner of the room and rests his elbows on his knees, clasps his hands together and stares unwaveringly at Danny. Danny brushes his fingers across the sheets and stares at the stitches sewn in them as he speaks again.

“Because I don’t want to keep secrets,” he says, “Because you need to know. Because yesterday, in the red light district, it made me feel shaky and uneven for the first time in a long time – and maybe it’s because of all the shit that’s been going on or maybe it’s because I’ve been keeping this from you – I don’t know. I just know that it made me feel shitty and that I knew I –“ he breaks off, takes a deep breath and looks back up at Steve, who is still staring at him with the same deep look, “I needed to tell you.”

“H-how long ago?” Steve asks. Danny bites his lip.

“I was eighteen,” Danny says. “Just graduated, stupid kid. Made stupid decisions for a little while. It – it was for about a year, I guess. Maybe?” he shrugs. “A lot of that time was a blur. And then my parents – they got me help and I got straightened out. I went to college and then to the Academy and Rachel and Grace came along and then – you,” he says, finishing.

“Danny –“ Steve tries but breaks off, seemingly not finding the right words. Danny watches him and waits. Finally he says, “Did you think I would react badly? Everyone has a past, Danny.”

“That’s not everything,” Danny whispers.

Steve cocks his head in question and Danny sighs. “I – at the time I lost my job. There were friends I hung out with who had jobs in the… drug industry, and knew people. He offered me a job as a pusher, Steve. I needed the money for the drugs and pretty much to live. I wasn’t living at home by that point – my parents told me I could come back around when I wanted to start over,” he eyes Steve nervously, but Steve’s face holds no reaction.

Stoic SEALs are nothing to mess around with, he thinks.

“You… you mean you were dealing heroin?” Steve says.

“Not exactly… and not heroin – cocaine,” Danny corrects, eyeing him for any small detail. There’s nothing, not even a twitch that would behold a reaction that says Steve is angry or upset or disappointed.

Finally he inhales sharply and says, “Jesus, Danny.”

“Steve I get it,” Danny says quickly. “You don’t understand how people can do those things, you don’t understand how I could be so irresponsible while at the exact same time you were off at Annapolis preparing yourself to go off into the Navy and become Superman. I get it. And you’re right; I was a stupid, stupid kid. I made terrible, terrible decisions and there weren’t any excuses for them. My family was amazing, my childhood was spectacular. Part of it was that I gave into peer pressure and the other half was I just wanted to live a little.”

Steve lets him ramble and when he’s finished, he shakes his head. “Danny,” he says quietly, “I wasn’t going to say any of that. I was just going to say you’re lucky to be _alive._ ”

Danny snorts. “I’m lucky to be living the life I live,” he says in agreement.

“You never – you never got caught?” Steve asks.

Danny looks away.

\--  
 _Cruz gets shot and Danny watches. Something went wrong, that’s all Danny would be able to tell you, because he shot up and smoked a few joints and drank a lot. All he knows is they both got called on a job together that night and it was in an even more dangerous part of the city than usual. They trip over the empty bottles and stumble out into the street towards where they need to be._

 _All Danny could tell anyone if they ask is that the person they take drugs to is cocky and has a lot of attitude. He’s pushy and doesn’t want seem to want to leave Cruz and Danny alone. He gets in Cruz’s face and the next thing Danny knows, Cruz is pulling punches. Danny backs into a corner and shouts at him to get off the guy._

 _All Danny could tell anyone if they ask is that he hears the pop of a gunshot, but it sounds like it’s underwater – like everything does when one is high off their minds. He could tell anyone he saw red like a rose spreading across Cruz’s abdomen and the light shooting out of Cruz’s eyes, he sort of heard Cruz’s last breath, but it, too, sounded blurry and distorted in his drugged-out ears._

 _All Danny could tell anyone if they ask is that he let out a strangled sob and watched as the shooter ran._

 _Danny runs over to Cruz and tries to shake him awake, but it’s too late, he’s already too far gone, anybody could see that. His breaths are shallow and he’s already let go of his bleeding wound. There are sirens in the distance because someone in the apartment buildings must have called the cops. Danny knows he needs to get out of here, so he lets out another sob and kisses Cruz on the forehead because for whatever messes Cruz pressured him into – whatever fucked up situations they got into together – Cruz is still his best friend and now he’s gone forever._

 _And then he runs._

 _He runs the entire way back to his parent’s house and pounds on the door until his father opens up and then he collapses in his arms, a sobbing, heaving mess, begging him to just fix Danny and he’ll never do another terrible thing in his entire life._  
\--  
Steve stares wide-eyed as Danny stutteringly explains his story to him. He’s moved from the chair to the bed and is gripping Danny’s hand – tight. “God, Danny,” he breathes. Danny offers him a smile.

“I fucked up.”

“You – you just – you could have _died_ ,” Steve says, wide-eyed and almost angry looking at something that happened so many years ago. Danny barks out a small laugh.

“I could have died a lot of times before that and a lot of times after that, babe. The difference there was I had no idea what was happening until it happened. I just – there’s so much guilt,” Danny says. “I left him, you know? It’s not – it’s not like I meant to. And then my parents – they just. Told me what I was going to do. They put me in bed that night and in the morning I woke up and they sent me to a rehab facility. A month later I was out and they sat me down and told me we weren’t ever going to talk about it again. None of us – not me or Matt or my sisters. They all agreed to it and God – I loved them for it because at the time I wanted nothing more than to _forget_ all of it.

“So I enrolled in college for the required two years and then the Academy. Went to the PD right after that and focused on my job. Mostly, I was able to push it to the back of my mind. There was a lot of therapy involved,” Danny says, with a smirk, “To make sure I didn’t ever go back to the drugs. But it’s not like I really wanted to – not after that night. After a while it’s kind of about your body longing for the motions of it – does that make sense?” He asks, looking up at Steve. Steve nods, listening intently to Danny. “For a few years afterwards there are just the urges from your body – for a joint, for a needle – even though I hated needles the most. For alcohol. Everything,” Danny says.

“That’s why you don’t – I noticed that you’ve never really –“ Steve tries to say so Danny fills in for him, rubbing his thumb over the back of Steve’s hand.

“Appearances,” he shrugs. “I’ve bought a six-pack for you, but if you’ve noticed I usually drink water or Gatorade. At the bars I always get club-soda. If I buy the six-pack or the rounds at the bar, no one questions what I’m doing and I like it that way. I blend in better. Back when Rach and I divorced – there was a little bit of a relapse with the alcohol – no drugs though,” he’s quick to say. Matt had been there for him and that was all that had mattered.

“I can’t believe I never noticed,” Steve says, looking awed at himself. Danny shrugs.

“I’ve gotten better with practice throughout the years,” Danny tells him. Steve turns to him again.

“Danny, how did you – I just – God,” Steve murmurs and pulls Danny in, holding him close.

“I’m… sorry I didn’t tell you,” Danny whispers. Steve shakes his head.

“You did tell me,” he says slowly, “When you could. I’m not – Danno, I’m not mad or anything. I’m mostly just shocked. I’m amazed, too,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders, “That you’re here in one piece, alive and well and you’re a detective with a daughter and so successful. Not all addicts get to say that, Danny.”

“I know,” Danny rushes to say. “It’s – it’s part of why I chose the profession I chose. Repayment, maybe?” He says like a question.

Steve makes a noise and clears his throat, “You trust me,” he says in a small voice.

Danny stares at him for a moment in surprise. “What – of _course_ I trust you Steve – Steven how could you think I didn’t trust you?”

“No, Danno, not like that – you trust me enough to – you trusted me enough to tell me about this. About all of it. I… Danny,” Steve says and looks up at him helplessly.

And Danny suddenly knows what this feeling is, the pounding in his heart and the desperate need to tell Steve the truth. It’s _love_ , real and true, raw and feeling. It’s love in its deepest form and he’s never had it with anyone else – he’s never had a connection so important before and he understands now why he’s laying all his secrets out on the line.

He clears his throat and clings to Steve, kissing the side of his face. “Steve,” he whispers, “Steve I… I love you.”

Steve holds onto him tighter than he has all day and chokes out a broken sob-laugh as he shakes against Danny, “I’m so glad you’re strong, Danno,” he says. “I… I love you, too.”

Danny locks those words away because they mean more than anything. He knows that they’re possibly three of the hardest words Steve has ever had to say.

\--  
 _Matty meets him at the doors of the rehab center. “Ready?” he asks him, eyes wary and searching. Danny realizes that he’s waiting for Danny to reach out and grasp onto him, or fall down and start puking, like he’s done the past several times he’s seen his younger brother._

 _With clarity he realizes that his brother has grown up a lot over the months he’s been gone from his home. No longer is he the lanky sixteen year old teen with a defiant attitude, chin always tilted up expecting a fight from anyone – but a seventeen year old young man with a muscular build who has jetted up in height, freckled and darkened, spinning car keys on his index finger. He has maturity in his eyes, Danny notices and something inside him twinges with regret that he maybe gave him a few of those lessons a little too early._

 _He knows that his parents and sisters are waiting at home for him. He knows that his future lies ahead of him and that he will have to choose carefully for the rest of his life because of his bad decisions now. He knows that what has happened here will haunt his dreams possibly forever and a strange part of him has accepted it and said that it’s okay with it._

 _Right now, he wants to go home, tell his parents about his career decisions. He wants to tell them that he’s sorry – so fucking sorry – that he loves them and he’s missed them. He wants to hug each of his sisters and memorize their looks of joy. Right now, he squints into the sun and looks at Matt. He reaches out, wraps his arms around him tightly._

 _Matty is stiff in his arms for a few seconds before he slowly wraps his arms around him in return. Danny smiles, relieved._

 _“I’m ready,” he breathes out._


End file.
